The creative artworks of sculptors Walter Arnold and Karen Stoskopf Harding have been on display worldwide, as far away as Italy, France and Hungary, and closer to home in North America.
There was never any doubt in Walter Arnold's mind about what he wanted to do. "I always wanted to be an artist. For most people the big questions in life are 'what' and 'why' -- what are they going to do, why are they here? For me those were never big issues. The question was how -- how am I going to do what I know I should do with my life?"
Arnold was carving in stone by the time he was eight years old, and had found his way to Italy by the time he was 20. There he apprenticed under master carvers in the marble studios of Pictrasanta, Italy.
Stoskopf Harding had always been interested in art, but it wasn't until she was exposed to sculpture while studying for a bachelor's degree in visual arts that she came to love the three-dimensional art form.
Both sculptors trained at home and abroad, and have settled back in their home countries, doing what they love to do.
Though their styles are very different, Arnold and Stoskopf Harding share some fundamental ideas about sculpture and what drives the artist.
The rewards are many, says Arnold. "Creating something new, something personal and different; seeing the life emerge from a block of stone; the challenge that comes from each piece, each project being something entirely new; solving new problems; discovering new ways of looking at things."
The process of creating something entirely new brings together all sides of expression. "It's a real blend of physical and intellectual actions, with physical and intellectual rewards."
Stoskopf Harding believes sculptors feel the same rewards as other visual artists. "There is a great deal of satisfaction in seeing something before you that has been created with your own mind and heart and hands."
But she adds, "There are also attached frustrations because there isn't always ease of achievement. Sometimes things go wrong in the process and you have to work to correct them. Sometimes we're not as pleased with the end result as we might have been."
For Arnold, the downside of being a sculptor is the economic uncertainly that so often accompanies an artist's life. "I can have loads of work one month, with no guarantee of another job coming along."
Stoskopf Harding knows very few people who can honestly say they earn their living as sculptors. Money may be important to keep a roof over your head, but it's not art. Self-expression is more important to Stoskopf Harding than monetary value.
"I look at the classic side of it, the idealistic side. I think artists tend to be one way or the other. I don't necessarily look at it first in terms of selling. I wish to make something that I consider is a work of art. I wish to achieve something that might go down as one step forward or sideways in the field of creative endeavor."
She is quick to add, though: "Mind you, maybe I can afford to do that because I've not had to make my livelihood by doing this. I know some artists are scratching and scraping along, desperately trying to sell things to keep their heads above water."
Fortunately, that isn't the case for either of these artists.
Arnold spent five years at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., working under Vincent Palumbo, a fifth-generation master carver. He also worked with Frederick Hart, the sculptor who carved the Three Soldiers Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
Arnold loves the variety his work allows. One of his favorite pieces is a drinking fountain fashioned into the shape of a turtle.
"When it was done [the turtle itself weighs 1,800 pounds] we swung it into place with a gantry, set it down, removed the straps and rolled the gantry away. Within a minute, six kids were climbing on it. Unlike performing artists, who work in front of an audience, visual artists rarely get that kind of direct feedback. That was an amazing experience."
Perhaps their talents originate from deep within. Or perhaps excellent training and wonderful teachers taught them this fascinating art. But it's the talent and inspiration that are important. Where they come from does not seem to matter.
Of the origins of his talent, Arnold says, "Never worried about that too much -- it was just there. I spend time developing it, but not questioning it."